


The Upper Hand

by dreamdustmama



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-27
Updated: 2010-04-27
Packaged: 2017-10-09 05:06:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/83345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamdustmama/pseuds/dreamdustmama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin is angry as hell, Arthur is desperate for something he's wanted for years, and there's mud <i>everywhere</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Upper Hand

**Author's Note:**

> This is angsty, and does have a brief bit of dub-con if that's not your thing. I'm currently planning on expanding this into something much longer, so if you like this then consider it a preview. :D

Arthur pushes his wet fringe from his eyes, grinning wickedly at the image in front of him. Merlin is glaring at him, water dripping from his hair and trailing down his face, jaw clenched and hands in tight fists. It's pouring down rain, both of them drenched straight through their clothes, and the football field they're standing in is quickly turning to mud.

"Come on, Merlin," he taunts, kicking the football they're using straight up and catching it, tucking it between his arm and his hip. "Even _you_ can do better than that."

"Fuck you!" Merlin spits out. "I didn't want to do this in the first place."

"Oh, that's right," Arthur mocks, pretending to remember. "You were _forced_ to spend time with me after you and your little buddy Will stole all of the school's available footballs."

Merlin narrows his eyes further. "No, I was forced to _serve detention_ by trying to learn this ridiculous game. _You_ just volunteered because you like seeing me miserable."

Arthur cocks his head to the side, considering. "All true," he concedes after a moment, and puts a bit of maliciousness he doesn't feel behind his smile. "Speaking of—do the drill again. And then again, and again if you have to."

Merlin looks absolutely furious, eyes flashing as he steps closer to Arthur. "No."

"No?" Arthur repeats, raising an amused eyebrow and blinking through the water that trails into his eyes. "You can't tell me no, Merlin. This is your _punishment_, and I have permission to keep you out here as long as it takes."

Merlin steps closer, and Arthur can almost hear his teeth grinding. "_No_," he repeats viciously. "I'm cold, I'm wet, and I'm completely exhausted. I've been doing the same bloody drill for _hours_, and anybody with more brains than you would be able to see that I'm not going to get any better. So fuck off. I'm going home."

He turns and begins to walk away, the rain seeming to grow heavier the more distance he puts between the two of them. Arthur allows a brief moment of panic and then lets it turn to anger at the insult, at being told _no_ and left here in the rain by himself. He snarls, curling his lip, and before he can think about what he's doing he lifts the football and throws it directly at the back of Merlin's head. The aim is true, and the ball smacks against Merlin, throwing him off balance. He flails almost comically before slipping in the mud, falling and landing hard on his hands and knees.

Arthur swallows, feeling a brief flare of guilt, but then Merlin is shifting in the mud, glaring at him with pure hatred as he scrambles up and comes at him at a dead run. Arthur only has a moment to be surprised before Merlin shoulders him in the stomach with a loud, angry shout, knocking all the air out of him as they go flying back. They land in the mud, skidding through it, and Arthur can feel it seeping into the back of his jeans and up his shirt. He barely has time to catch his breath before Merlin is over him, fist landing a hard punch to Arthur's jaw.

_Fuck_, he thinks as dark light bursts in front of his eyes; Merlin is a lot stronger than he looks. But he still has nothing on Arthur, and so Arthur catches Merlin's next fist on its downward path, shifting and pushing so that Merlin goes sprawling beside him in the mud. Arthur moves quickly, trying to tackle Merlin, but the other boy is fast and scrambles out of the way. Arthur makes a grab for his ankle, mud making his grip slippery, and Merlin kicks out violently with his other foot. He manages to get loose and Arthur curses, knees sliding in the mud as he tries to recapture him.

Surprisingly, Merlin doesn't take off running like Arthur expects. He leaps at Arthur again, causing them both to fall back. Mud splatters around them and Merlin's fist lands hard in Arthur's belly, forcing all the air from his lungs. Arthur gasps and briefly curls into himself before the shock of having _Merlin_ of all people get the upper hand fades into bitter frustration and anger at this clueless boy. He hooks his leg around Merlin's hip and pushes off the ground, flipping them over. Merlin flails wildly, nearly landing another punch to Arthur's jaw, but Arthur somehow manages to grab both of his wrists and pin them above his head, knees locked tightly against Merlin's hips.

"Calm down!" he yells, which does nothing more than cause Merlin to struggle more fiercely. The mud is making everything slick, and Arthur barely manages to keep hold of him.

"Let me go you fuckwit!" Merlin shouts, back arching as he fights against Arthur's grip.

"Not until you _calm the fuck down_!" Arthur repeats, trying desperately not to think about the position they're in.

Merlin continues to fight him for several more long seconds, but he must eventually realize that he's not going to get free because he slumps back and closes his eyes, hands still clenched into fists where Arthur's holding them above his head.

"Go on then," he says, sounding miserable and defeated. "Beat me up, or what the fuck ever."

Arthur takes a moment to stare at him in astonishment before saying, "Merlin. When have I _ever_ beat you up?"

Merlin's brow creases and he opens his eyes, bluer than ever against wet-dark hair and pale skin marked with streaks of mud. "Fine," he says petulantly. "Do whatever it is you're going to do. Just hurry it up so I can go home and take a fucking shower. I've got mud in places nobody should."

Arthur doesn't really know what to say to that, the image that flashes through his mind making him swallow. "Why do you hate me?" he asks before he can stop himself. Merlin blinks up at him and Arthur hesitates, darting his tongue out and tasting rainwater and mud on his lips.

If he hadn't been watching, hadn't been looking directly into Merlin's eyes when it happened, he would have missed the way his gaze flicked down to Arthur's mouth and then back up, pupils just slightly wider than they were before. _No,_ he thinks. _There's no way._

"Because you're a complete prat," Merlin snaps, and there's something slightly desperate behind it. He tugs hard on his wrists, but Arthur just tightens his hands around them, wondering, and Merlin scowls. "Let me go, Arthur."

Arthur shakes his head and stares down at Merlin, stomach twisting. He quickly makes a decision—plan already forming about how to scoff it away as nothing more than Merlin's imagination—and shifts back slightly. Merlin's eyes widen briefly and he begins struggling again, but it's too late because Arthur has already settled his arse onto Merlin's hips and can feel the hard length of his cock through the layers of wet denim that they both wear.

"Oh god," Merlin chokes out, fighting in earnest now as a deep flush spreads across his cheeks. "Please let me go. Seriously, Arthur, just-just—"

But there's no way in hell Arthur's going to let him leave now. His heart is thumping out a loud rhythm in his chest, blood pounding in his ears, and before he can think about the fact that maybe Merlin's erection doesn't actually have anything to do with him he leans down and presses their mouths together. Merlin freezes, wide blue eyes staring up into Arthur's in shock, not returning the kiss.

"What are you doing?" he whispers against Arthur's lips.

Arthur pulls back slightly, breathing harshly through his nose. "I thought that would be obvious," he says tightly.

"Alright," Merlin concedes, and swallows audibly. "But—why?"

Arthur stares down at him, feeling slightly sick. But he's wanted this for so long, _so long_, and there might not ever be another opportunity where he's got Merlin pinned beneath him, unable to do anything against him. So Arthur leans down and kisses him again, hard and demanding, pushing his tongue past Merlin's lips and sweeping it through his mouth.

Merlin makes a muffled noise and snatches his head to the side, breaking the kiss. "What the fuck?" he yells. "You can't just—you can't fucking—I won't be your fucking gay experiment!" He twists violently beneath Arthur, arching his back as his feet slide through the mud. "Let. Me. _Go_."

"You're not," Arthur insists, fighting to keep both his hold on Merlin and his sanity as Merlin's erection rubs across his arse while he struggles. "You're not, you never have been—"

"Fuck you!" Merlin shouts, eyes flashing as he bares his teeth. "Fuck you and your stupid fucking—"

Arthur makes a strangled noise and leans down again, licking into Merlin's mouth with desperation, pulling back to avoid the snap of teeth before diving back in with another hard kiss. He shifts quickly, sliding one leg back and rubbing his thigh along the erection that still hasn't faded. Merlin makes a keening noise and jerks his hips up, relaxing briefly into the kiss before tensing again and trying to kick out with one foot and dislodge Arthur. All he manages to do is slide his own leg further between Arthur's, and his thigh brushes across Arthur's hard cock.

Merlin freezes and Arthur breaks the kiss, dragging his tongue down Merlin's wet jaw. The rain is still pouring over them, mud seeping further through their clothes and clinging to their skin. Merlin's breath is harsh, his entire body trembling beneath Arthur's.

"You—" he chokes out. "You're—"

"Yeah," Arthur says, and sucks a kiss into the soft skin behind Merlin's ear, the resulting groan sending a jolt of hot arousal straight to his cock. "Not an experiment," he repeats quietly, seriously.

Merlin shudders, eyes closing briefly before turning his head and capturing Arthur's mouth in a fierce kiss. Arthur moans, allowing Merlin's tongue to shove inside, licking across the roof of his mouth and over his teeth. He thrusts downward, shifts so their cocks are pressed together, thrusts again and then again.

"Fuck," Merlin gasps. "You are so bloody infuriating."

Arthur laughs breathlessly and nips at Merlin's bottom lip. "If I let you go will you punch me again?"

"No," Merlin says almost reluctantly, so Arthur grins and lets him go.

And then Merlin's hands are everywhere, his fingers raking through Arthur's hair and over the back of his neck, sliding down and then under Arthur's filthy t-shirt, nails scraping over skin. Arthur's breath stutters out of him and he pushes his own hands beneath Merlin's shirt and over too-prominent ribs, flicking his thumbs over the hard pebbles of Merlin's nipples. Merlin makes a strangled noise, throwing his head back and making it easy for Arthur to sink his teeth into the flesh on his neck. He grinds his hips down against Merlin's, too many thick layers of wet material between them.

"God, fuck," Merlin says, and reaches down between them. "Want to see you, want to feel—"

His fingers slip on Arthur's fly, making him curse, and Arthur sits up to allow for easier access. He reaches for Merlin's fly, flipping the button and yanking open the zip, and Merlin readily lifts his hips to allow Arthur to peel his jeans down his thighs. Merlin's hands move from Arthur's undone fly to slide over his arse as he pushes down both Arthur's jeans and boxers. He quickly brings one hand around to grip Arthur's cock tightly, stroking him quick and rough.

Arthur's hips stutter, a broken moan sounding from deep in his chest. "_Merlin_."

Merlin stares up at him, something deep and awe-struck in his eyes, and Arthur has no choice but to drop down and capture his mouth in another kiss. He brings his hand between them, pulling it along Merlin's cock once, twice, three times, storing away the resulting gasps to remember later. Their cocks brush against each other and they move at the same time, pressing together and tangling their fingers around both of them. The friction is harsh and perfect and too much as their hands move and their cocks slide between them.

Arthur shudders, pulling back from the kiss and dragging in a deep breath, lips still brushing across Merlin's as they breathe each other in. Their movements are fast and jerky, Merlin's hips snapping up, and Arthur curses, thrusting forward into the tight circle of their hands. Merlin's cock against his is thick and hot, their precome mixing and easing the way. The slide becomes slick, friction settling into something intense and powerful.

Arthur drops his weight down onto his other elbow, shifting slightly and staring down into Merlin's eyes as he tightens his grip around their cocks and strips them both, pulling Merlin's hand along with his. Merlin drags in a hitching breath, pupils blown wide and dark, jaw slack. His feet dig into the muddy ground and he arches his hips up, crying out as his eyelids flutter. It takes Arthur a moment to realize that Merlin is coming, hot liquid pouring out over their hands and onto his pale stomach.

"Oh god," Arthur breathes, dropping his eyes to watch the last of Merlin's orgasm pulse from his cock. It's too much, that last little bit, and Arthur moans loudly as his own release crashes into him, come splattering out to mix with Merlin's. "_Fuck_."

His elbow buckles and he collapses on top of Merlin, spreading the mess between them even more. Merlin grunts in protest but doesn't move to push him away. Arthur closes his eyes and takes several deep breathes, trying to burn the scent and feel of Merlin in that moment into his memory. The rain is still falling heavily around them, and there's mud in so many places Arthur doubts he will ever get rid of it all.

Finally, Merlin pushes against him and Arthur sighs before moving, plopping over into the mud. Merlin sits up and looks down at his stomach, swallowing hard, Adams's apple bobbing in his throat. He reaches down for his jeans and Arthur can see his hands trembling. Dread filling him, he turns away and grabs onto his own jeans, raising his hips to pull them up and button them. He sits up and watches as Merlin runs one hand through his hair, darting quick, nervous glances at Arthur.

"Look—" he starts, and Arthur's jaw clenches.

"_Not an experiment_," he interrupts, saying it for the third time. He glares at Merlin, daring him to contradict the statement.

Merlin stares at him for a long time before finally nodding, a faint flush spreading down his neck. A tiny smile flashes across his face before disappearing, and he stands, looking down at where Arthur's still sitting in the mud. "You should, um. You should call me then. If you want."

And before Arthur can answer he's turned and nearly ran from the field. Arthur watches him go before closing his eyes and bringing his knees up, resting his forehead against them. He takes several more deep breaths, trying desperately to calm his racing heart and trembling hands. It's a long time that he sits there, the rain pouring over him and washing very little of the mud away.

Finally, he pushes himself up and heads in the direction of home.


End file.
